Promise
by BlackKnight93
Summary: NAME HAS CHANGED! was once 'Don't Cry' Prosper has been depressed for a while and has been cutting at night. One night, Scipio catches him, and, worried, tries to console him. WARNING slashy angst with lime zest! And some OOC...


BK93: This was created by mixing Tic-Tacs, Mountain Dew, fruit juice, and total boredom at close to one in the morning. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own **The Thief Lord. **If I did, we'd see a lot more action between two certain characters……lol…

WARNINGS: Character emoness, cutting, shonen-ai content, slight lime

**!!START DON'T CRY!!

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_I tried to kill the pain _

_But only brought more_

_(So much more)…_

Prosper sat alone in the cold Venetian night. He didn't know why he was so depressed. He had been for a while, ever since he and Bo had run away from their aunt and uncle. Maybe it was still his mother's death mulling over. He didn't know. All throughout the time he had met Scipio and everyone else, he had put up and kept up a good front. Now, he sat outside on the roof, as he often did at night. The sleeves of one of his old sweatshirts were pushed up, revealing scarred wrists. A knife lay in his lap. He sighed as he thought of everyone, how they were the only things that tethered him to this world. He thought of Bo, his reason to hold up his front and try to stay strong. Lastly, he thought of Scipio. _Scipio…_He loved the way the other boy's name sounded. The thought of the Thief Lord sent shivers up his spine. He had a certain…admiration for him. Prosper then remembered why he always came out to the roof. He picked up the knife and held it clumsily in his left hand and dragged it across his right wrist one, twice, three times. Blood trickled from the new cuts, and Prosper just stared at them. The pain reminded him he was alive in this world. He then switched and dragged it more steadily across his left wrist once, twice…

"Prop?" Prosper dropped the knife, never making it to the third cut. Scipio, just returning from a heist, was standing not far away from him, a bag of loot still over his shoulder, the iron mask still covering his angelic face. Prosper quickly pulled his sleeves over bloodied arms, praying Scipio hadn't noticed.

"Prop? What are you doing up here this time of night?" Scipio came closer.

_The knife!! _Prosper thought. He had no way of hiding it. He slid it away from himself. "Oh, hi Scipio. Didn't see you there. You kinda startled me." He tried to play innocent. Scipio looked a bit concerned. The boy was acting weird. He put the loot down and took off his mask and sat next to Prosper. There was a pained look in the other's eyes, like he was hurting inside.

"Is something the matter?" He asked, lightly touching the other's shoulder. Prosper flinched a little.

"No. Nothing. I'm fine." Prosper said, looking the other way over the rooftops of Venice. Scipio was very concerned now. There was definitely something wrong with him. Scipio looked around and noticed the knife.

"What?" His voice was quizzical, soft, and sort of shocked. He picked up the knife. It was glinting with deep red blood, still fresh. "Prop, did something happen?!" Scipio got up and ran to the other side of Prosper, holding up the knife. "Are you alright?!" Prosper lightly chuckled, a forced chuckle.

"Don't worry about me, Scipio, I'm fine." He urged, raising one hand beside his face. His sweatshirt sleeve was stained with blood on the underside.

"Prosper!!" Scipio took the boy's hands and pulled down his sleeves. Both wrists were still bleeding. Prosper winced at Scipio's tone and use of his full first name and looked at his feet. "Why?!" Scipio ripped some strips of cloth from the back of his long trench coat and wrapped Prosper's wrists to stop the blood flow. Scipio took him by the shoulders and shook him lightly. "Look at me, Prop! What's wrong?!" Prosper looked up. Tears streaked down his face. He fell forward and buried his face deeply in Scipio's firm chest and broke down and cried. He gripped the other's shirt tightly as he cried and sniffled like a little child. Scipio, after getting over the initial shock, wrapped his arms around Prosper's lithe, shaking frame.

"Don't cry, Prop, it'll be alright." He lightly stroked the shaking boy's hair.

"I'm-I'm tr-r-rying, Sc-c-cipio…" Prosper choked out in-between sobs. "To sta-a-ay s-strong for Bo's s-s-sak-ke…"

"Hush, Prop, hush. Don't cry." Scipio found himself stroking Prosper's soft brown locks in an attempt to calm the poor sobbing boy. "Don't think so much of Bo. You need to think of yourself a little more often." He whispered into Prosper's hair, giving him a light peck on the forehead. Prosper looked up, a little surprised, then rested his head against Scipio's chest again.

"I'm sorry, Scipio…" He said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry Prop. You'll be alright. I'm here for you now." Scipio lifted the boy's face, a hand under his chin, and wiped away his tears with his thumb. "Don't cry anymore." He kissed Prosper soundly. Prosper's eyes widened, then slowly closed as he surrendered himself to Scipio. Scipio nipped at Prosper's lower lip and pulled, demanding entrance. Prosper granted it to him, allowing him to remain the dominant one. Scipio's tongue darted into his mouth, tasting everything in sight, rubbing Prosper's tongue, coaxing it to join the dance. Timidly, the other boy complied, allowing his tongue to meet Scipio's and be lost in the taste of him. The kiss continued for what seemed like forever, locked in a tango of tongues, before Scipio pulled away. Prosper was panting.

"Bo told me about your feelings." He told Prosper. Prosper blushed a vibrant red, which Scipio believed only made him look adorable. "I feel the same." He said, kissing Prosper again, his hands creeping up into his shirt, gently running over taught, small abs and chest muscles. Prosper couldn't help but moan, which gave Scipio an advantage, which he exploited to get his tongue in Prosper's mouth again. He loved the taste of the other and would play dirty to taste it forever. Prosper broke for air. "No…fair…" He panted, blushing at Scipio's actions. Scipio just smirked and tweaked a nipple, causing Prosper to bite his lower lip to keep from moaning. "Let me hear you, Prop." Scipio tweaked the other nipple and was rewarded by a small, throaty moan from Prosper, a beautiful sound to his ears. Scipio's hands ran down his body, over his chest and abs, down to the waistband of his pants. The warm, caressing hands stopped there, not wanting to do anything further without Prosper's permission, least he loose the boy's trust. Prosper gave an agitated groan, all rationale lost. He didn't care if all of Venice could hear them. Scipio was loving him, him! Of all people!

"Scipio, please…" He was begging now. Scipio smirked. He loved the desperate tone in Prosper's voice.

"What, Prop?" Scipio was tormenting him now and Prosper hated it.

"Don't tease me, Scip, please…" He begged.

"Then tell me what you want, Prop." Scipio's hand lightly ghosted over Prosper's nether regions, causing the boy to moan loudly. "Scip!!"

**!!!!!!!!!!NEXT MORNING!!!!!!!!!!**

Prosper awoke in Scipio's bed, having no idea how he got there. He was also lacking a shirt. And pants. _How did that happen?_ Prosper's memory then came rushing back to him. He and Scipio…last night…on the roof…It had been a memorable time, Scipio had made sure of it.

"Good morning." Speak of the devil and he shall appear. In came Scipio, whistling and smiling. He walked over and gave Prosper a light peck on the lips. He sat down on the bed behind the boy, kneading his shoulders lightly. Prosper presses himself into Scipio's warm, gentle hands. The hands run down his arms to his now-bandaged wrists, lightly running over them.

"Promise me you'll never do it again." Scipio said, resting his chin on Prosper's shoulder, the once-happy voice now laced with concern.

"I promise." Prosper said, looking at Scipio.

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!!END!! **

BK93: Once again, side project of boredom, hope it doesn't suck too badly. Review please!


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